when we go crashing down, we come back every time
by Griever11
Summary: "I'm not apologising for what I did if that's what you're here for, and if I had to do it all over again, I still wouldn't change a thing." - Fill for a tumblr prompt, AU from the end of Always. Three shot. Strong T.
1. Chapter 1

Prompt beneath the chapter as it's pretty long. This will be a three shot, already fully written - just needs to go through a final edit.

* * *

Kate Beckett has been unemployed for almost four weeks. She's been out of a job for nearly an entire month and it still feels weird not having to wake up to the shrill ringing of her phone, not having to go into the precinct –

Not seeing Castle.

She reflects on that fateful day a lot, she thinks about the decisions she made and the ties she severed as a result of them. Sometimes she regrets her actions – she's not afraid to admit to that now. It's not that she regrets that she quit her job or that she let her sniper get away, mostly it's the fact that she'd let Castle walk out of her life so easily without trying to stop him. Some days she finds herself waking up half expecting him to call her, to blow up her phone with never ending text messages, but she's always disappointed. It's been four weeks and she hasn't heard a single peep from him.

Beckett can't really fault him. She let him go without so much as acknowledging the fact that he had professed his love for her (again!). She knows she has every right to be angry about him keeping secrets from her, but after personally seeing what could happen, after being at the receiving end of the brutal beat down that nearly ended her life, she can concede that Castle had had good reason to keep his secrets from her.

So a month and two days after Castle walked out of her life, she finds herself walking briskly to his apartment at eleven in the morning, a tray of coffee and a bag of cronuts in hand. She misses him terribly and now that she's gotten a little look at what her life looks like without his constant presence by her side, she wants to fix it. Castle doesn't even know that she's no longer a detective. Doesn't know that a month ago, she nearly died with his name on her lips and his face in her mind.

His doorman lets her up without preamble, not a stranger to her frequent visits, more frequent especially in the last year or so since her shooting. She smiles at him and gets into the elevator, giving him a wave as the doors slide shut.

What would he say? Would he even want to talk to her? She'd tried calling earlier in the morning when she had decided she wanted to visit him, but her call had gone straight to voicemail. She arrives on his floor and she takes a deep breath before knocking on his door.

It's quiet and she's not surprised. She figures Castle's alone – she vaguely recalls him telling her about Alexis and his mother going to Europe after the younger girl graduated. A stray thought enters her mind and she's suddenly afraid he might have left for the Hamptons for the summer.

She's about to knock for one last time when the front door flies open to reveal a rather dishevelled looking Richard Castle blinking dumbly at her.

"Beckett." His eyes travel from her face to the tray of coffees and the bag in her hand, then back to her face. "What do you want?"

Even though she expects the hostility in his voice, it still hurts. She smiles at him nervously and clears her throat. "I thought you might like some breakfast?"

"I've already eaten," is his reply, even though it's glaringly obvious that he's been nowhere near his kitchen or had a sip of coffee. "So you can go now."

She blinks at him, taking in the weariness and the bags under his eyes. He hasn't been sleeping well. She suddenly wishes for once that she hadn't been so stubborn, so awfully afraid of him and his feelings for her. She feels the familiar pang of regret as she realises that all this could have been so easily avoided.

"I don't _want_ to go, Rick."

She uses his first name and it feels a little foreign on her tongue. He notices it as well, his eyebrows rising at it. She lifts the bag in her hand and the coffees tip precariously in the tray. "I ... I really want to talk. Over breakfast?"

She sees the moment his resolve breaks, his shoulders slumping forward and he lets out a sigh. Backing away from the doorway, he opens his door a little wider and steps aside as he beckons for her to enter.

Her heart stutters with the hope that she hasn't completely ruined them. He's letting her in, physically at the moment, but maybe it's a sign he's about to let her in emotionally too and her confidence is buoyed by this. She makes her way to his kitchen, already so familiar with his loft that she moves on autopilot, taking out his plates and dividing up the cronuts for them.

"What ... do you want to talk about?"

Evidently, Castle's not letting her stall and beat around the bush. She can understand that. Beckett looks up at him from behind the kitchen counter. He's pulled his robe tighter around himself, his hair flopping over his eyes and he looks adorable, save for the suspicious glare he's currently aiming at her.

"Um, about how we left things. Before. And about how I feel ... I just." She comes out from behind the counter and walks up to him. "A lot of things have happened in the last month and I wanted to talk to you about them."

"You were perfectly clear about the choice you made last time I saw you, Beckett. You know where I stand with that. It's too early for me to go at it again with you," he says her name like it's poison in his mouth and once again she feels a the river of hurt flow through her veins. He gives her a frustrated stare and rubs his hand over his face.

"I'm not apologising for what I did if that's what you're here for, and if I had to do it all over again, I still wouldn't change a thing."

"I know," she responds quickly. "I'm not here to ask you to apologise."

"Oh." He's taken aback, eyes widening in surprise. There's a hint of curiosity in his gaze but his usually clear blue eyes are still clouded over, he's clearly still wary of her. "You're not?"

"I ... um, I screwed up," the words feel thick and clunky as they leave her lips. She holds out Castle's coffee but he merely looks at it, refusing to even take another step towards her. She sets the takeaway cup down on his counter and sucks in a shaky breath. She walks around the counter and clasps her hands together nervously. He hasn't moved away and she takes it as a good omen.

"Castle, I understand why you did it. Why you thought you had to keep it from me. And I know it couldn't have been easy for you, and I get it. I forgive you. I forgive you for _everything,_ Castle." She's taken a few steps forward and she's so close to him now she can smell the faint remnants of the cologne he would have had on before he went to bed. It reminds her of the precinct, of late nights spent brain storming over steaming cups of coffee and her heart yearns to relive those moments again. She studies his stony expression, his eyes dark and stormy instead of the clear blue she's so accustomed to.

The silence that falls between them is unnatural. She's not used to Castle being quiet, not used to him standing so still and it strikes her suddenly that she might actually be too late. His stillness is scary and what if –

_What if he's already moved on?_

The thought is frightening so Beckett does the only thing she can think of. It's a move borne out of desperation, but she's never been one for words anyway. _He's_ the writer and she's more of the 'take action' half of their partnership.

It's gutsy, Beckett realises. But what else can she do? Her lips crash against his and it takes them both by surprise. Her hands travel up his sides, clutching his robe tightly and pulling him bodily against her. He stumbles against her clumsily, his hands coming up to her shoulders to steady them both but his lips never leave hers. He's soft and pliable, his lips pressing silkily against hers. Her tongue peeks out between her lips and she sweeps it across his, tasting him for the second time in her life.

_Oh. _

His lips part and she can tell that he has zero resistance to what's happening. His palms splay wide at her back and pulls her close, pressing her body to his. He groans as their tongues touch and she feels him walking them backwards towards his living room.

He's intoxicating. He tastes like freedom and she basks in it. His hands travel downwards, the heat of him warming her through the thin material of her shirt, and descend towards the waistband of her jeans. He cups her ass and she moans at the contact, her own fingers trailing along the soft terrycloth sleeve of his robe. She grips his biceps, nipping at his bottom lip and gasps when he lifts her, her legs automatically coming up to wrap around the outside of his thighs.

She notices she's being lowered – onto his couch, she supposes – and suddenly his body looms over her and he's pressing himself against her. His weight is delicious and comforting, his lips burning a trail down the length of her neck. Her legs tighten around him, their bodies rocking sinfully against one another.

Castle's hands are everywhere all at once, slipping underneath her top, inching past her waistband and fingering the elastic of her panties. He scrapes his stubble along her jaw and she moans at the sensations coursing through her body. His lips meet hers again and this time the tentativeness is gone and the kiss he bestows upon her is bruising. She basks in his attention and her fingers come up to tangle in the short strands of his hair.

She doesn't know how long they make out on his couch, but she feels his arousal through the thin material of his boxers, scorching against her stomach. His robe's open and fluttering against the couch, threatening to fall right off his body. She's about to fling the damn thing entirely off him when a door slams and she's startled out of her haze of pleasure. A curious voice calls out from somewhere in the apartment.

"Dad? ... What-"

They fly apart as if they've been electrocuted.

Castle falls from the couch but picks himself up quickly, readjusting his robe, making sure the evidence of his excitement is properly hidden. They both turn towards the entrance of the loft and sees the bewilderment on Alexis' face. She's stock still just inside of the doorway, hand still around the handle of a large suitcase. Her eyes are wide and questioning, accusing, even and Beckett notices that her pupils are darting back and forth between her and her dad.

"Uh Alexis," Castle says, walking towards his daughter. "You're back early!"

"No ... I'm not. It's twelve, Dad. Right on time," Alexis says slowly, still taking in the scene before her. She pulls her dad into a tight hug, but her eyes are still fixed on Beckett over his shoulders.

"Hi, Detective," she says warily.

Beckett gets off the couch biting her lip and nods at the younger girl. "Uh, hi Alexis. Did you have a good trip?"

Alexis peels herself out of her father's embrace and smiles. "I did, yes. Grams is a wonderful travel buddy."

A silence befalls the three of them and it's awkward. Beckett detects a slight tension in the look that Alexis is giving her and she doesn't blame her. Castle's undoubtedly told her about their previous falling out and the girl is entitled to feel a little protective of her father.

"So uh. There are cronuts on the ... in the kitchen. I um, I'm gonna go. Errands to uh, run," Beckett says. She walks towards the entrance, still a little off kilter. She doesn't know how to say goodbye to him so she merely brushes past him and smiles tentatively at the two Castles.

"Welcome home, Alexis. And uh, see ya Castle," she mumbles before letting herself out of the loft.

The door shuts behind her and she leans against it, taking in a few deep breaths to calm her stuttering heart.

What the _hell_ just happened?

* * *

**Prompt:** _S5 fic where Always didn't happen and they aren't together. They know each others secrets. They carry on as if nothing happened, but they both still want each other. One day Kate comes over and they're alone for the first time since the downfall in 4x23. they end up heavily making out on the couch and she's straddling him when Alexis walks in with a friend engrossed in convo. She jumps off him, but has to clench her legs together. UST gets stronger until they finally manage to get alone again._

Thank you Alex, for reading through all of this for me!

Twitter: estheryam  
Tumblr: griever11


	2. Chapter 2

He comes to her that same night.

When she hears the pounding on her door, she's expecting it to be her neighbour complaining about volume of the music she's listening to. She turned the music up in an attempt to drown out the symphony of confusion currently playing in her head but it's been hours and she's still nowhere close to understanding what happened earlier in the day. She jams her finger on the volume button until the noise is barely audible and tosses the remote onto her coffee table, mildly irritated at the persistent knocking that echoes through the apartment.

When she wrenches her door open, she's pleasantly surprised. _Castle's_ there, standing in front of her with both hands in his pockets. He's dressed casually in a de-stressed T-shirt and form fitting jeans looking just as confused as she is, as if he has no idea what he's doing there himself.

"Hi," she greets. "I didn't … expect you. Please, come in."

Castle nods and walks past her into her apartment. "So I called the precinct," he says without preamble. His voice is oddly calm and steady. Turning around to face her, he continues. "Gates said you don't work there anymore."

_Oh. _She didn't quite manage to get to that part this morning before they were … distracted.

She hesitates for a second, considering how to tackle that particular subject matter. "Um. No, I … quit. A month ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Castle, I wanted to this morning but –"

"But _what_, Kate?" he forgoes being calm and collected, and instead his voice is harsh with anger, his eyes blazing at her in muted fury. "You almost _died_! Gates said you almost died and Ryan had to save you from falling off a goddamned roof! Kate, _why didn't you tell me_?"

Beckett swallows the lump forming in her throat as she tries to articulate herself. Castle is livid, cheeks flushed, hands balled into fists by his side. He's brimming with untamed emotion, but she's not one to back down from a fight, feeling the familiar coil of anger uncurling within her in retaliation.

How _dare_ he be angry? Why does _he_ get to storm into her apartment to yell at her, when she has every right to be equally as angry with him? He's kept secrets from her too. Pretty damn big ones, and she'd forgiven him for it. Even brought him a coffee and cronuts to show him that he'd been forgiven. Now he's here, quaking in anger, expecting her to what –

Okay, so she doesn't know exactly what he wants with her. He's just standing in front of her, blinking angrily in silence expecting her to explain herself. His presence brings the horrible memories of that fateful day rushing back and she's reminded of the argument they had in the very same spot in her apartment, the flurry of hurtful words exchanged that ultimately led to him walking out on her. And nowhe wants to know _why_ she didn't tell him?

Is he _serious_?

"_You_ walked out on _me_, Castle. You were done – those were your exact words, so excuse me for thinking that it meant you wanted nothing else to do with me," she spits out, letting her emotions take over.

"You said 'always' and you still left me. I almost died and I heard your voice, did Gates tell you that too? That when Ryan pulled me up from the over edge, all I could think about was you? Did she tell you that I called out for you and you weren't there? You said always, Castle, and _you weren't there_."

"Kate..."

She's so lost in her tirade that she doesn't realise she has tears pooling in her eyes. She doesn't even register that Castle's trying to speak, instead she's recalling the fight that left her bruised and battered for days, her decision to quit her job, the surge of freedom she experienced when she dumped her gun and her badge on Gates' desk. And then remembering the sudden emptiness when she realised she had no one to share her freedom with. She steels her resolve and draws in another long breath before continuing.

"But I ... I forgive you, Castle. I've told you that. I've seen what my life looks like without you in it, and I _hate_ it. I made mistakes, terrible ones, and then I made equally terrible decisions. You said you loved me and I was so blind that I didn't –"

"Kate, wait," the crack in his voice is what catches her attention. Gone is the fury, replaced instead with something that almost sounds like regret. "Just wait – stop talking for a second, okay?"

Right. She's said too much. She's played all her cards now and she's got nothing left. If Castle stands by the decision he made a month ago, if his feelings haven't changed – then she's truly missed her chance.

Oh god, what has she done?

"You forgive me, Kate?"

She blinks at his words, spoken so quietly it might as well have been a whisper. "I – of course, yes."

He sighs heavily and walks over to her couch, leaving her to stare at him wordlessly as he slumps down on it. His head drops over the back of the couch, eyes scrunched shut as if he's working out the world's biggest problem.

Well, for him, she probably _is_ his biggest problem.

She follows him to the couch, but instead of settling down beside him, she kneels down at his feet. Her hands reach out to his on his lap, lacing their fingers together and she bites her lip, waiting to see if he'll pull away.

He doesn't.

"Say something, Castle," she says.

His head comes off the back of the couch and his eyes open, fixes her with the bluest gaze she's ever seen in her life. "I want to kiss you."

Beckett lets out a startled laugh, gasps and rocks back onto her heels in surprise. Castle's tugging at her hands, pulling her up onto the couch and she sees a faint smile gracing his features. "When I kiss you, everything feels okay again. I'm not angry, or sad – I just ... am," he whispers.

She breathes out heavily, her legs curling up beneath her as she sits sideways facing him on the couch. What does she say to that? She wants to feel his lips on hers too. She wants to feel his weight over her again, pressing into her, making her feel safe and loved and protected. She wants all of it – all of him.

They're staring at each other in silence, the awkwardness weighing heavily between them. She licks her lips and he breaks their staring competition, his eyes tracking the movements of her tongue over her lips. They inch infinitesimally closer to each other.

The contact is feather light and tentative, so different from how they started that morning. His hands cup her cheeks, urging her forward, pulling her over him so she's straddling him on her couch. She sighs in pleasure, loving their closeness, loving the way he's caressing her. She sinks into him, letting him take her weight, tightening her thighs over his.

He groans and she chuckles, feeling exactly what she's doing to him. He nips at her bottom lip, coaxing her to part her lips, simultaneously letting his fingers dip beneath the waistband of her pyjama shorts.

Castle starts to nuzzle her along her jawline, leaving the intoxicating pull of her lips. He runs his tongue down her neck, tasting her, sucking on random patches of flesh, biting, soothing, loving. She knows she should warn him against leaving any visible marks on her but she can't bring herself to do anything but enjoy the feelings he's evoking within her. Instead, she rewards him with helpless mewling, moans and pants that soon becomes the soundtrack to their evening.

Her fingers start to wander as she tongues his earlobe, feeling him tremble beneath her touch. Soon she's lifting his shirt, her nails scratching gently along the smattering of hair that disappears under the waistline of his jeans. They're completely lost in the heated moment they're sharing that they almost miss the fact that his phone is vibrating.

_Almost._

Beckett pulls away suddenly, and he groans in disappointment. "Kate – what … Where are –"

"Phone, Castle," she says. "Yours. Ringing."

So she's not as coherent as she would like to be. Great.

She combs her fingers through her now unruly hair as she sits up straighter, still straddling him. She knows she's affording him with the perfect view of her chest but she really cannot bring herself to care. Castle mutters beneath his breath as he pulls his phone out of his back pocket, sliding his thumb over the screen to answer it.

"Sorry, say that again, Alexis?"

Beckett watches him as he tries to pay attention to whatever is being said on the other end, his eyes screwed shut so he's not staring at her indecently. It's a little adorable.

"Okay. Okay, I'll see you in about fifteen minutes, stay right there okay?"

He hangs up and winces apologetically.

"Need to go home?" Beckett asks, sliding away from him and standing up. She readjusts her attire, pulls down her shirt and straightens her shorts. She knows she's flushed, she can feel the heat in her face, her racing heart – but she's not embarrassed. He looks no better. In fact, he looks even less put together than she does.

"Yeah, something about the stove being broken after mother tried to make something. I should go back and make sure the place isn't about to burn down."

Beckett nods, backing away to let him walk past her. She doesn't know what to say to him. What does one say after a heated make out session like that anyway? She's not sure if any of their problems had been resolved (they certainly hadn't been after their _first_ make out session). Was he still angry at her? Was this only a ... two time thing?

"Stop thinking so hard, Beckett."

She starts, noticing him staring curiously at her. "I ... I wasn't," she denies automatically. He sends her a look of disbelief and she relents. "Not really, anyway."

"Look, we need to really talk and I know that. But for now, just know that I want this. Despite... everything, I still want this. So, can we sleep on it and I'll call you tomorrow?"

It's not often that Castle's the voice of reason, but she can't find the fault in his logic this time. It's been a long, confusing day and she definitely needs the sleep. She takes in his appearance – he's no longer sporting the steely, edgy façade he had on when he first arrived at her place. He's softer, he's even smiling a little at her. It gives her hope, and she feels a swell of delight at the realisation that maybe, just _maybe_ she can actually fix them.

"Okay. Sure. Goodnight, Castle," she says as she opens her door for him. "Hope your place isn't on fire."

He walks out of her apartment and she's about to close the door when he spins around wraps his arms around her in a tight hug. "I've missed you so much Kate Beckett," he whispers. He drops a lingering kiss on her cheek before stepping away. "Goodnight!"

* * *

_Thank you Alex, for ensuring our favourite crime fighting duo didn't end up sounding like robots. Eternally grateful!_


	3. Chapter 3

She sleeps restlessly, haunted by dreams she doesn't remember when she wakes up the next morning. The summer heat is stifling and she finds herself sweating during the night – it's unpleasant and uncomfortable and it's the reason she wakes up in a bad mood.

On top of that, she's also frustrated that she doesn't know where she stands with Castle. Their two encounters have done nothing to define their relationship and she doesn't like not knowing. She pours herself a cup of coffee, making a mental note to buy new filters for her machine. Maybe the caffeine will give her the clarity she desires. The first sip does wonders for her, the bitterness traveling through her system, jolting her senses awake. She feels slightly better already.

The phone on top of her kitchen counter vibrates and for a moment she forgets that she's no longer a cop and almost answers her phone with a curt bark of her last name. She pulls the pen and pad she has sitting on the counter closer, and then realises it's probably _not_ dispatch calling.

Because she's not a cop anymore. Right.

She pulls herself together just in time and picks up the call with a quiet "Hi, Kate Beckett speaking."

"Honey, it's me," Lanie's voice comes through the phone and Beckett leans over the counter, smiling as she realises who it is. "What are you up to tonight, want to get drinks somewhere?"

Beckett weighs her options, knowing that Lanie means well. She can accept the offer to go out and get moderately drunk, or stay home and mope about her 'not-sure-what-this-is' relationship with Castle. She runs her fingers through her hair and sighs, making a decision.

"Okay, sure Lanie. Sounds good," she replies. "What time do you get off shift?"

Lanie hems and haws on the other end for a few seconds, clearly not expecting Beckett to agree to the idea so easily. "Eight okay?" she says eventually. "Old Haunt?"

Beckett blinks at the suggestion, and then shakes her head. No. Not his place, not tonight. "Uh, can we go someplace else?" she asks, praying Lanie won't ask too many questions. Thankfully the ME doesn't, but her '_sure, chica, whatever you want'_ is laced with suspicion and Beckett knows she'll get hammered with questions when they meet up later that night.

She glances up at her clock and sighs. Well, at least she'll have the rest of the day to prepare for it.

* * *

The bar they both eventually agree upon is a new one and Lanie is positively shaking with excitement when they meet up at its entrance that evening. It's flashy, music pumping obnoxiously from within the walls and Beckett's suddenly very apprehensive about their night out. It doesn't seem like the kind of place that will be conducive for meaningful conversation between the two friends; instead it looks like the only conversation that the bar allows for are the ones that take place between its patrons and the bartender.

They go in anyway, Beckett tailing Lanie through the front doors, inching past the burly bouncers and following the crowd straight to the bar. Lanie shoots Beckett a knowing smile when the bartender asks for their order, and ten minutes later they move away with two very strong Long Island Iced Teas in hand. The alcohol burns a path down her throat and Beckett enjoys it, not having been able to let loose properly in a very long time.

"So, why not the Old Haunt tonight?" Lanie, true to character, gets straight to the point when they find a table in a secluded corner of the bar.

Beckett takes another long sip of her drink before answering her. "Castle and I are in a very weird place right now."

Lanie snorts in disbelief and shakes her head. "You two are _always_ in a weird place. That's not new. I would've thought that you being currently unemployed would mean you two would be sorting all your crap out. Clearly I was wrong."

"We had a fight before …. Before the roof incident. And we haven't really talked much since then," Beckett revealed. "Sort of."

"Sort of?"

Beckett's about to launch into a very well-rehearsed recap of the last few days when a hand comes down on her shoulder, startling her. Her drink splashes over the rim, dripping onto her fingers and she turns around to glare at the offender, a few choice words ready to spill from her lips.

"Espo? Ryan?"

Her surprise is drowned out by the loud music however, and she can only sigh at her two friends, finally leaning into the one armed hug Esposito extends towards her. Ryan joins in, pulling Lanie along with him for a little group hug. It hits her then that she really misses her boys. She misses going to work, going to the precinct, pounding the streets – and while it's nice to have the time to catch up more regularly with her dad, it really isn't quite how she'd expected to spend her down time.

"Hey, Castle!"

Ryan's cheery greeting sends a chill down her spine and she stiffens within their embrace. She extricates herself seconds later, pulling back from the huddle and turns around to make sure she isn't hearing things. Sure enough, standing by their little table looking a little unsure of himself is one Richard Castle. She grits her teeth and scowls at Lanie. This entire situation has her name all over it – it's definitely her handiwork and Beckett's going to have words with her about it later. The boys move to greet Castle excitedly and as annoyed as she is, she's secretly glad that their falling out hasn't affected the relationship between the three men.

"Lanie, you did this, didn't you?" she whispers accusingly into her friend's ear.

Lanie cackles and takes another a big mouthful of her drink. "So what if I did? You said so yourself, you've been weird with him. Go un-weird yourselves out. Go, go, _go_!"

Beckett's shoved towards Castle as Ryan and Espo back away from him, their own sneaky grins adorning their faces.

"Uh, hey," she mumbles. "Didn't know you were comin' tonight, Castle."

He smiles easily at her and – god, how is he so calm and collected when she's essentially freaking out on the inside? She avoids looking him straight in the eye, instead she takes the rest of him in and can't help but admire just how good he looks. He's standing in front of her in a dark red shirt, long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons undone under his collar. His hair is immaculate as usual and he's opted not to shave for the night.

Oh, that would feel so good against her skin if he just …

_What_?!

She blinks and realises he's actually said something to her that she's completely missed.

"… thought I'd join you guys," he finishes with a knowing smirk on his face. There's no way he could have known the direction her mind had taken just then … is there? The twinkle in his eye suggests otherwise and he takes a step closer to her, invading her personal space. She feels her cheeks warming up and she's suddenly grateful that the only illumination the club offers is the laser lights strobing across the room. Her heart's racing, beating against her chest in time with the rhythmic thud-thumping around her.

"You look nice tonight, Beckett," he yells over the loud music, making a point to trail his gaze along the length of her body. "_Really_ nice."

She feels the heat in the way he's cataloguing her attire, notices when he lingers on the sweetheart neckline of the dress she's wearing. The expression on his face is similar to the one he had when they were otherwise preoccupied the other night; intense and desperate – wanting.

_Despite… everything, I still want this._

His voice echoes in her head and she's inclined to believe that he meant it when he said it. He certainly _looks_ like he wants her, and he's being blatantly obvious about it. She can hear her other friends speaking among themselves behind her over the music, undoubtedly catching on to the heightened tension between them. She knows they're already placing bets on what the outcome of the night would be and honestly, she's so completely over this. He's standing right there in front of her, solid and real, as if he's waiting for her to give him the okay to whisk her off onto the dance floor, hold her tight against him as they bump and grind to whatever beat the DJ spins.

It's an image she can't seem to shake from her mind's eye and she swallows, trying to tamp down the desire that surges through her.

They have so many things they haven't dealt with yet – words that should be exchanged, conversations that should be had. But how exactly is she even supposed to do any of that with her annoying friends sniggering at her back and with him looking like he wants to devour her for dinner?

Oh, now there's an idea.

Well, _fuck_.

She tips the rest of her drink down her throat – wow, _strong_ – and takes Castle's hand, spins around and drags him towards the bar.

"You look good too," she tells him finally. "Let's get you a drink."

He's taken by surprise at her sudden insistence, but he follows her nonetheless. "What do you – oh," he's silenced by her lips on his, rough and needy. She nips at his bottom lip, sucks on it hungrily and she groans. The taste of him, tinged with the sweet aftertaste of her drink is completely intoxicating. Her fingers glide up his shirt to curl around his collar, tugging him even closer still.

She pulls, he pushes, and she's pressed right up against the bar, the edge of the countertop digging uncomfortably into her back. She's not complaining though, not when she's busy being thoroughly ravaged by him. Her hands travel down his back and she slips her fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. Her nails scratch at the material and he bucks his hips involuntarily at the sensation.

"Kate," he groans when she pulls away from him eventually. "Kate."

"I'm done, Castle," she announces fiercely. The music in the background thrums around them but she knows he hears her loud and clear. He'll always be able to hear her. "I'm _done_ fighting this. You want this. I want this. Let's just … be."

Castle blinks stupidly at her, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. If she's being honest with herself, she can't quite believe it either. Twelve hours ago she was in her kitchen overwhelmed with frustration at how the two of them seemed to never get anything right. Twelve hours ago she was almost ready to call it quits and leave the ball in his court.

And now? Now she's going to fight for him, even if it takes her forever.

"Okay."

His voice is deep and rough, overcome with emotion. "Okay," he repeats. "Let's do this, Kate."

She grins at him and takes his hand in hers. She pulls him away from the bar, further away from the crowded dancefloor and tosses a saucy look at her dumbfounded friends as they pass them on their way out. She stops in front of Lanie and sends her a withering glare.

"Do _not_ call me tomorrow morning, Lanie. I will be busy." She tilts her head at Castle standing behind her, his chest snug and warm against her back. "With him."

* * *

_Thank you so much for all the favourites, follows and reviews. Completely floored by the response to the previous chapters. Thank you, and hope you enjoyed this!_


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